


Pushing Up the Ante

by rotbody



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Choking, Improper Lubrication, M/M, Rough Foreplay, Rough Sex, don't try it at home, general violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7187633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotbody/pseuds/rotbody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, he really, really wants to kill Junkrat. Some day, he's really going to do it.</p><p>Just not today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing Up the Ante

"Oi, Pig. You owe me."  
  
Some days, he really, really wants to kill Junkrat.  
  
He could do it easy, too, the twerp trusts him now. Sleeps next to him and all, snores the whole night. Of course the little fucker snores. Roadhog hasn't had a good moment of silence since he was hired. When it's quiet now, he worries.  
  
'I wanna go to a bar! Let me have a drink, you stodgy old cunt!' Ugh. The whinging would be endless if he didn't give in. So he did. He did, and they had gone to some half-falling down Junker bar. And Junkrat had gotten his irradiated pisswater beer with Roadhog watching his back. Watched all the other Junkers that would just love to get their hands on the maniac, would love to rip him apart and get all his secrets. But they won't because Roadhog's there. For now.  
  
Personally, Roadhog fucking hates bars. He used to drink, yeah, back before anything went to shit, back when he was Mako, used to spend a lot of time in shady biker bars, playing pool, getting into fights. Ever since the apocalypse came to the Outback, he hasn't drank. He needs his head clear, especially now, when he's got to babysit the most annoying Junker he's ever met.  
  
But he lets Junkrat have his drinks. Lets Junkrat make friends with the Junkers at the bar, lets him tell his stories and giggle and gesture and generally be his normal, annoying self. It's fine, even if Roadhog's on edge, it's fine until someone decides to buy Rat another drink.  
  
The guy offering's a big bruiser type, not bigger than Roadhog (few are), but still. Hog scowls under his mask, shifts on his feet. It's just unease, he thinks, the feeling he gets before a fight breaks out. All tension in the air. Rat's oblivious, of _course_ the little fucker is, that's why Hog's always gotta pull him outta the fire.  
  
Rat's grinning up at the guy, too, big enough that his gold tooth's on display. He's got this look in his eyes, big and wild. It's strange, feels a bit like someone's stabbed him right in the gut and really twisted the knife. Almost, but not quite. Whatever it is, maybe just tension starting to build, Hog knows they've got to get out.  
  
He slams a wad of cash down on the bar, grabs Rat by the back of his explosives vest, and hauls him out. There's quite a crowd around, but Hog muscles them through and out, drops Rat neatly into the sidecar of the bike at the earliest opportunity. The kid fights him the whole way, yelling and kicking and doing a real number on the sidecar with his fake leg. Puts a couple new dents in it before Hog's got him packed down in there.  
  
That had been about three hours ago. Rat's not said anything until now, when they're nearly settled in for the night, in some half-burned out old cattle station. The silence has been worrying.  
  
"Didya hear me? Huh? I _said_ , y' owe me, Hoggie."  
  
Roadhog's hunkered down, digging through the duffle that contains their shared belongings. He grunts in response, acknowledging he heard Rat, but doesn't quite agree. He could have done with more quiet, to be honest, even if it had started to concern him.  
  
" _Yeah_ , you do! Dragged me out right when that guy was buyin' me a drink- huh, since when d'you get jealous, Pig? Gitcher panties all up in a twist over me? Huh?" Rat's giggling, bordering on the hysterical. Hog can hear him shifting around behind him, getting his balance. Then Rat goes and prods his back with his peg leg.  
  
That's it, Roadhog thinks. That's it, he's killing the kid. No more jokes at his expense, no more giggling over him doing his fucking job. Fuck the pay, fuck whatever treasure Junkrat's hiding.  
  
He turns, faster than Rat can react, and grabs the prosthetic. Yanks hard and almost sends Junkrat to the floor, but the little twerp manages to keep his balance. He jerks the leg, turning it in it's metal socket until he hears a little crunch.  
  
"Aw- fuck, _ow_ , fuckin'- that _hurts_ ," Rat curses and squirms, not laughing anymore, and Hog twists his hand. He can hear the metal creak and scrape, louder now, hears something in Rat's knee pop. Junkrat's curses turn into more of a strangled yelp. Rat's squirming and trying to break free (never gonna happen), Hog's thinking about dragging the guy down, snapping his neck- but Rat's got that look again, same as he did in the bar. Same, but not quite, just as wild and manic, more heat to it, a little panic. Makes him hesitate a little.  
  
Hog doesn't let go. He stops twisting the limb, he knows he broke something in the joint and any more damage would just lead to Rat bitching all night. He jerks roughly, pulls Rat down onto the floor. He hits with a loud thump, the burned-out wood underneath them both shuddering hard. That elicits another harsh stream of curses, and Junkrat kicks out, hits Hog in the stomach with the heel of his good foot. Hog doesn't flinch, just stares down at the idiot through the lenses of his mask.  
  
"C'mon, c'mon, keep goin', big guy. Pussyin' out on me now?" Rat sneers, sticks his tongue out, then laughs like a fucking banshee as Hog's free hand goes for his throat. Thick fingers close around the Junker's skinny neck, tighten and twist. Roadhog can feel his adam's apple bob under his palm. And he's still got that look in his eyes. "Fuckin'- fuckin' do it, Hoggie, dare ya." His voice is getting raspier, weaker, Hog can tell he's struggling to get enough oxygen to keep conscious, let alone speak.  
  
He lets go. Junkrat wheezes, laughs. His eyes are closed, his neck's red and starting to bruise already, a deep and angry purple where Hog really dug his fingertips in.  
  
Roadhog closes his eyes, breathes out low. Shit. He was really going to do it. Wring Rat's neck right then and there, and where would he be? Just out in the bush alone, again. All quiet. All boring.  
  
He can hear the clink of Junkrat's belt, the zip of his shorts and the little shuffle he has to do to get at least halfway out of his clothes. Rat gives him another kick.  
  
"Wake up, you ain't done yet," he rasps. Roadhog opens his eyes, looks down at the filthy man sprawled out under him. Rat's still got the vest on, but the shorts are gone, just barely hanging off of his flesh ankle. And the guy's hard, of _course_ he is, because Junkrat just thinks he's playing a game, doesn't he? Idiot. Damn idiot. "Finish what y' started, Roadhog."  
  
Roadhog shifts, puts a hand on Rat's chest, right between the straps of his vest, and pushes down. The sternum's got a bit of give, not much before bones start to crack. "I'm going to kill you," Hog mutters, and he can feel the laugh building in Junkrat's chest before he even hears it.  
  
"Not yet you ain't, luv," Junkrat cackles. And Hog gets that feeling again, that stabby, twisting feeling.  
  
Junkrat's crazy. Roadhog knows that _he's_ nuts too, that they've both got something loose and miswired in their heads. They make each other crazier, he thinks. It wasn't just jealousy. Something stronger, sicker than that. Shit. He's gonna kill the rat. Junkrat's gonna kill him. They're gonna go down together, clawing and dragging one another. He can't stop it, isn't sure he wants to stop it at this point.  
  
Hog raises his hand, only to jab two fingers into Rat's mouth. The guy doesn't flinch, to his credit. He can get them deep, too, until he feels Junkrat start to choke, feels his tongue work against them as his body tries to either swallow them down or force them out. His other hand's on Rat's dick, huge palm completely engulfing it, and Rat doesn't have the self-control to not buck up into the touch.  
  
He strokes, slow and methodical. He knows if Rat could talk right now, he'd be bitching and complaining about the pace, demanding more, more more. Twitchy bastard. Rat's being good enough, sucking and swiping his tongue around the thick fingers in his mouth, figuring out how to breathe around them and not choke to death. He's still all squirmy under him, pushing his hips up, trying to fuck into Hog's hand. The heel of his real foot scrapes against the floor as he desperately tries to get some traction.  
  
Roadhog lets it go on for awhile. He knows Rat isn't going to come like this, as much as the twitchy bastard's trying, but he likes to make him wait. Waits until Rat's expression is crazed, feral, eyes looking like they could start a fire all on their own, no accelerant or ignition needed.  
  
He pulls his fingers out of Junkrat's mouth, trailing thick saliva and just a little blood- looks like Rat must've bit his tongue while Hog was trying to wring his neck. He doesn't say anything. Just lets go of Rat's dick to grab his leg, the fake one, just behind the knee. He hoists it up and up, until the metal clicks against the floor about Rat's shoulder. Hog knows that stretch must burn, but he knows Junkrat can keep it up for awhile.  
  
"Finally," Rat wheezes as he tucks his metal hand behind his own thigh. Keeping himself nice and spread for Hog, who appreciates the gesture. He works quick, spit-soaked fingers rubbing against the rat's hole, pushing inside him, spreading him. It's a little rougher than he'd usually be. Normally he's got something better than whatever's in Junkrat's mouth, too.  
  
It's good enough. He's working his pants down as he fingers Rat, as the guy squirms and pants underneath him. Trying to fuck down on his fingers, like that's going to work. But he lets Rat try in vain for a minute or two, letting out a rough chuckle as he watches him.  
  
"Stop- just fuck me already, c'mon, c'mon, do it babe," Junkrat pants, all desperate and frustrated. Roadhog supposes he can do the guy a favor. Like he doesn't want it too, like he isn't eager to be inside the crazy Junker. He pulls his fingers out, getting a nice whine from Rat. Takes a breath, then presses his cock into Rat's barely-slick hole.  
  
"Fuck-" It comes out of Rat like Roadhog's slugged him in the gut, his face all screwed up. He writhes on the floor like he's trying to get away from it, kicks his good leg out, grazes Hog's side with it, but ultimately stays put. "Fuck, that hurts, fuck, _fuck_ , don't you stop, you complete bastard." Still running his mouth, even though his voice sounds half-shot, cracked and broken more and more with each word.  
  
Hog shoves a hand over his face, pushes his head back roughly. His palm's a good muffle, but he can still hear Rat's manic giggles, see the way the skinny guy's chest shakes as Roadhog fucks him. He goes good and slow, can't fuck Rat all hard and deep like this. Just spit and blood ain't enough, so he goes nice and shallow. Just the head of his dick eased in, stretching Rat achingly slow, using his weight to keep the guy pinned as he fucks him.  
  
Rat comes quick, he can feel it all slick and hot between their stomachs. Roadhog doesn't pay it any mind, just keeps moving, those lazy, shallow thrusts. Rat's incessant giggles turn into strangled whimpers after awhile, and he finally lifts his hand up. Gets a good look at the guy's face. He's all red and flushed, eyes practically rolled back in his head. Mouth open, his neck all covered in those nasty bruises.  
  
That's what does it for Hog. The sight of this guy, his boss, his- whatever it is now, all spread out open underneath him. All vulnerable, well-fucked and satisfied. Shit, that shouldn't do it for him, but it does, and he grunts once, pushes deeper and comes inside. That gets a hiss from Rat, and a shaky, creaky snicker.  
  
"'s more like it," the skinny Junker mumbles. "Got it all out, big guy?"  
  
Roadhog rolls his eyes and pulls out, lets Rat put his leg down. He's got it all out of his system, at least. Doesn't feel like smashing his Rat's face in anymore. Feels like he can manage to sleep a full night, too.  
  
Junkrat's all boneless and compliant after he comes, and it's hardly a chore to get up and drag him to their bedroll. He watches as Hog unstraps his prosthetics, all good and silent. This isn't the kind of quiet that worries Roadhog. He doesn't mind this one bit. The look's gone now, no longer that wild, maniac thing Hog had just fucked into the floor. More sedate now, more embers than a bonfire. Rat budges up when his limbs are all off and set nearby, makes some room for Hog on the bedroll.  
  
Roadhog thinks he's actually about to settle down and sleep, no further discussion. But he really should know better by now.  
  
  
"Still owe me, Hog."

**Author's Note:**

> rotbody.tumblr.com for more premium garbage content


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